


Making Maps from a Kiss

by Runic



Series: Fire Emblem Explicit One Shots [23]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Breast Fucking, Dorks in Love, F/M, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Married Couple, Married Sex, Politics, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:00:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24363955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Runic/pseuds/Runic
Summary: “So the Throat,” Claude continued, walking his fingers up between her breasts, “has a benefit to more than just Fódlan and Almyra. You see, if Sreng wants to trade with Morfis, they must travel these treacherous waters.” Claude’s fingers reached the hollow of her throat, his touch so gentle Byleth could barely feel him. She tried to lift off the pillows, but Claude held her down, the grin back on his lips.orIn which Claude names Byleth's breasts Fódlan and Almyra.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Series: Fire Emblem Explicit One Shots [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1515212
Comments: 27
Kudos: 151





	Making Maps from a Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a conversation we had in the claudeleth server. Julls drew boobs, and so I wrote boobs. I have posted the pic that spawned all this at the bottom of the fic with Jull's permission. I am not at all sorry for this crazy smut. Have fun guys.

Muttered cursing took Byleth’s attention away from the letter she was attempting to read from Seteth, brow furrowed at the constant interruptions. Byleth had curled up in the large bed she shared with her husband, had a cup of her favorite tea sitting on the nightstand, and made herself a nest of pillows to rest upon. She should have been comfortable and content as she settled in to read and respond to some of her own personal mail at the end of the day, but apparently that was not to be.

Her husband had swept into the room, all smiles and charm. Byleth had hoped Claude would join her on the bed, she loved leaning back into him and feeling the beat of his heart at her back, but he had instead decided to sit at the small desk they kept in their room, going right back to work. Byleth was at least grateful he had remembered to leave his study.

Claude was so focused on his dream, and she wanted nothing more than to help him achieve it. She had felt moved when he allowed her to share it with him, and she wanted so badly to see the new dawn he longed for, but there was quite a bit of work to do before then. Claude, however, was burning the candle at both ends, usually only resting when his body refused to move anymore. Byleth had lost count of the number of times she had found him slumped over his study desk using paper as a poor impromptu pillow.

“Claude, come here,” Byleth called out to him.

Claude looked up, the displeasure on his face giving way when his eyes rested on her. She knew from the guilt in his eyes he had caught her note of worry. “Just a minute, By,” he responded, following the words with another sigh. “I need to figure this out. The Srengian ambassador needs an answer in the morning.”

He lowered his head again, diving right back into the stack of papers he was scribbling on before eventually discarding, balling them up and throwing them over his shoulder.

Byleth glared at the top of his head. If he thought she was going to give in that easily, he had forgotten just who he married. “Claude,” she called again. 

Claude grunted, but otherwise did not respond. 

“Claude.” 

A wave of his quill.

“Claude!”

Nothing that time.

Byleth took a deep breath, using the moment to release the anger building inside her. She was not about to let Claude work himself to death, and if that meant hitting below the belt, well, he had no one but himself to blame as far as she was concerned. Byleth rearranged herself, sitting up and stretching out her legs, letting the strap of her nightgown slide off her shoulder for good measure. “Khalid.”

The scratching of the quill stopped and Claude sat frozen at his desk. 

“Khalid, come here, my love,” Byleth cooed, soft and gentle as she beckoned him to her. 

Claude finally moved, looking up once more. His eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight of his wife in her sheer nightgown. Byleth watched his eyes travel up her legs, saw his breathing quicken as she moved, causing the skirt to ride further up her thighs. He visabilly swallowed when he reached her chest, lingering on the area exposed by the strap sliding down her shoulder. She was rather pleased with herself when Claude stood, the bulge in his casual riding pants already obvious.

“Byleth,” Claude said as he approached their bed, that low desire in his tone sending a shiver through Byleth’s body. “You’re playing with fire there, my star.”

Normally Byleth would have teased him right back. Instead, she settled for reaching out her arms, encouraging him to join her. Claude kicked off his boots and crawled to join her in the center of the soft bed, sighing in relief as he sank into her embrace. Byleth watched a smile cross his lips as he nuzzled against her chest, relaxing at Byleth gently brushing back the stubborn locks that had fallen across his face.

“I can practically see the turmoil of your thoughts, my love,” Byleth murmured, continuing to hold him. “You have then all mixed together in that brilliant head of yours. Let me help you.”

Claude sighed and slowly lifted himself from her arms, resting his forehead against hers before lowering himself back onto his heels, leaving him kneeling before her. “All right, let me hear your plan.”

Byleth smirked, loving that he knew her own thoughts so easily. “It is a fairly simple plan, Claude. Just talk to me.”

Claude’s eyebrows raised in a moment of surprise. “Talk to you?”

“Yes.” Byleth nodded. She reached out again, taking his hands in her own. “Talk to me. Lay out the situation before you, step by step. Straighten out those jumbled thoughts of yours.”

Claude seemed doubtful, distracted as Byleth placed his hands upon her legs. Byleth saw the idea actually form in his head, watched the all too pleased with himself smirk form on his lips. She loved that look in his eyes, the spark of satisfaction as he leaned back in and kissed her shoulder.

“This,” Claude said through a series of kisses along Byleth’s right shoulder, “is Sreng.”

He moved over to the dip just below her throat, stealing a gasp from her lips as his teeth nipped at her. “This is that annoying little island with the unpredictable currents that makes sailing around the north of Fódlan so dangerous.”

This was certainly not what Byleth had in mind when she said for Claude to talk to her, but she was not about to complain. She wanted him close so she could reward him as he sorted through whatever problem he had run into, but as he kissed the map of their world into her skin, Byleth found herself spreading her legs to give Claude easier access to all of her. She could feel his hardness against her leg as he crawled closer to her, could feel the heat between her own legs as he looked up at her through his lashes. His chin rested on top of her right breast. He watched her reaction as with deliberate slowness he kissed her, lips slowly finding their way lower and lower until he placed a kiss over her nipple, still covered by the thin fabric of her nightgown. 

Byleth drew in a sharp breath as Claude’s lips wrapped around her, arching her back to press more of her breast against his mouth. She felt his laughter run through her, only then realizing her hands had lifted to tangle in his hair. 

She shoved him back, pulling down the other strap of her nightgown and tugging on the fabric until it pooled at her waist. Claude watched the whole process with hungry eyes, eagerness and love brimming over so clearly it made Byleth’s chest do that funny little tightening thing that she at first had thought meant someone had poisoned her. 

Claude leaned in for another kiss, capturing her bottom lip between his own. “You’re very eager,” he murmured as he let her go. “I’ve been neglecting you, haven’t I?”

Byleth shook her head, countering that train of thought before it could go any further. “No. I’m always this eager for your touch.”

She bit her lip as a blush spread across Claude’s cheeks. He cleared his throat, gaze dropping back down to her breasts. “Ah right then, where was I?”

“Sreng,” Byleth said, touching her shoulder. She kept her eyes on Claude’s face as her fingers trailed down until she reached her breasts, gently rolling her nipple between thumb and forefinger. “Then you came here, but did not say what it was.”

Claude covered her hand with his own, sending another shiver through her as the calluses on his palm caught against her. “Garreg Mach, obviously,” Claude answered with a cheeky grin. He cupped her right breast, kneading gently as Byleth dropped her hand, leaning back into the pillows to watch his performance. “This entire area is Fódlan. And this,” Claude paused to cup her left breast, chuckling as Byleth moaned from his attention, “is Almyra.” He leaned in once more to kiss her left nipple, wrapping his lips around it. Byleth gasped when she felt teeth, her body jerking toward him instinctually. 

Byleth looked down, picturing the map laid out across her body that Claude was painting with his lips. “I think you’ve wandered into Morfis there, my love.”

Claude chuckled around her, tongue lashing against her nipple before his lips released her. “You shouldn’t say things like that. I’ll have to conquer Morfis now.”

Byleth laughed and shook her head. “So that you can play with my tits is not a good cause for a war, Khalid.”

Claude gasped in mock outrage. “Who said anything about a war? I’m going to conquer them with my charm and wit. And then I’ll be able to play with your wonderful breasts all day long.”

Laughter echoed off their bedroom walls as Byleth wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for yet another kiss, drowning in the feelings of joy and love he pressed against her lips. “All right,” Byleth said, a little breathless when they parted. “Sreng, Fódlan, and Almyra. Do continue.”

Claude grinned, slowly trailing a finger down between Byleth’s breasts. “This right here,” he purred, warm breath ghosting against her cheek, “this is that oh so contested area of the Throat.”

“Ah.” Byleth leaned further back into the pillows, stretching out her legs. “So then I guess that is where Holst should be?”

Claude’s eyes darkened, the grin dropping from his lips. Byleth yelped as her husband growled, hands grasping her hips to hold her in place as he lunged forward. His teeth scraped between her breasts, leaving twin trails of red in the valley between her breasts. Rough kisses and nips marked the area Claude had claimed as the Throat, not stopping until Byleth was covered with marks that would not fade until morning. 

“Holst is getting nowhere near here.” The jealousy in her husband’s voice made Byleth shiver again. At some point she had slid further down into the pillows, leaving Claude leaning over her. His weight pressed against her, and Byleth had to remind herself to breathe. 

“No,” Byleth agreed, “no one besides you.”

Claude seemed pleased by her acquiescence, his head dipping down to place apologies against her with his lips. Byleth sighed, enjoying the gentle treatment. He always took care of her, and it absolutely delighted her.

“So the Throat,” Claude continued, walking his fingers up between her breasts, “has a benefit to more than just Fódlan and Almyra. You see, if Sreng wants to trade with Morfis, they must travel these treacherous waters.” Claude’s fingers reached the hollow of her throat, his touch so gentle Byleth could barely feel him. She tried to lift off the pillows, but Claude held her down, the grin back on his lips. 

“They want to come through Fódlan?” Byleth guessed.

“Exactly.” Claude’s hand wandered over to her right breast, his lips traveling over her skin. “If they come this way…” He trailed off, tracing the path from Byleth’s shoulder down across her breast, dipping between them and crossing over to the other side before ending at her left nipple, playfully pinching it. “...there is a better chance of their goods arriving safely.”

“But they’ll have to pay an additional tariff to bring their goods through Fódlan,” Byleth pointed out.

“Better that than their entire ship sinking to the bottom of the ocean.” Claude rested his chin between Byleth’s breasts, eyes fluttering closed as his cheeks rested against ‘Fódlan,’ his hand idly playing with ‘Almyra.’ “Lately they have been taking considerable losses, despite having some of the most advanced ships in the world. The safer bet is to take the path through Fódlan.”

“Seems reasonable.”

Claude snorted, grinning evilly as Byleth yelped when he pinched her. “Try telling that to Faerghus. There are still detractors from the Alliance upset that we are allowing Almyran goods through. They would only gain more traction if joined by those from the former Kingdom upset about Srengians coming in as well.”

“Well,” Byleth said slowly. She tugged at his shirt, long ago tired of it being on him. Claude chuckled and sat back up, allowing Byleth to pull the garment off completely. He preened like one of those multi colored birds the Morfis ambassador had gifted her with as her eyes hungrily drank in the sight of his broad chest. “We are going to open the borders to them anyways. Why not now?”

“It feels like a balancing act,” Claude sighed. “If I could, I would throw open all the borders this very instant, but I can’t risk a rebellion. There is too much on the line if we get this wrong.”

Byleth hummed in agreement, her hands going to the ties of his pants and carefully undoing the laces. She was tired of those being on as well. “So the question is, do we reject the Srengian ambassador completely and risk offending them, or we give them what they want and deal with insurrection.” Byleth clicked her tongue and shook her head, eyes lingering on Claude’s cock as she pushed his pants down below his hips. “You always said politics was about compromise. So, what are you going to give them, and what are you going to withhold?”

Claude threw his head back and laughed, the sound cutting off into a strangled moan as Byleth took his member in hand. “By,” he groaned, hips rocking into her hand. 

“Come here,” she ordered. “Come invade the Throat while you tell me what little plan you are working on.”

“By, that is positively devious,” Claude moaned even as he straddled her stomach.

Byleth shrugged, giving him a bland stare. “If you think you cannot handle it, I guess we can table this discussion for now.”

“Uh, so,” Claude stammered as he watched Byleth push her breasts together. “I was thinking of limiting the number of merchants allowed through, but then the question becomes how to decide.”

“Mmm,” Byleth hummed in agreement, nodding to Claude, encouraging him to slide his cock between her tits. “True. We would need a selection system of some sort, lest we fall into a pattern of the wealthiest merchants being the only ones to use this new trade route.”

“Ex-exactly.” Claude stumbled on his words as Byleth began to squeeze her breasts around him. “I’m not about to leave poorer merchants to take the more dangerous route.”

“Of course.” Byleth rewarded her husband with a kiss against the head of his dick, licking up the pearl of precum dripping from the tip. 

“Fuck, By!” Claude cursed, hips bucking forward.

Byleth grinned, dropping her head back onto the pillows and denying him the further feel of her lips. “Keep going,” she ordered.

Claude answered with a ragged groan, unable to withstand Byleth beginning to move faster. “Trial basis,” he managed. “With restrictions on certain goods, so that Fódlan and Almyran merchants will not be hurt by incoming items. Conditions to revisit and open further in a year.” Claude rushed through his explanation, dropping words so that his usual charm was completely undone.

Byleth hummed in agreement, satisfied with her husband’s explanation. “That sounds like a good plan. What is the problem?”

Claude opened his mouth and a garbled mess came out. Byleth bit her lip to keep from laughing at her husband, satisfied with his reaction to her pressing her breasts together harder. She did so enjoy seeing that cute expression as he came closer and closer to reaching his limit. “Amba-” was all he managed to get out intelligibly before groaning again.

“Ah,” Byleth acknowledged, having already guessed that the ambassador himself was the problem.“I have a plan if you would like to hear it,” she said pleasantly.

Claude moaned.

“He demands an answer tomorrow, correct? I doubt he was sent here to come back empty handed. Have him meet me in the morning.”

Claude moaned again, somehow managing to make it sound curious. 

Byleth leaned forward again, wrapping her lips around the tip of his cock. Claude fell forward, hands planting themselves within the plush pillows. His eyes were screwed shut, and Byleth hummed happily around him. She watched his mouth move, a string of Almyran curses unable to escape his throat. She pulled back with a loud ‘pop!’, Claude whining above her. 

“It seems he is already antagonized by you.”

Claude managed to open one eye, looking none too pleased by her comment.

“Oh, I doubt you did anything to deserve it...mostly,” Byleth said. “But it seems someone so stubborn might need a new face in this little arrangement. If you try to negotiate with him, he will feel weakened by any compromise.”

“You make a fair point,” Claude managed breathlessly. “All right, I’ll leave him to you.”

“Good. Don’t worry, husband,” Byleth purred. She did so enjoy how pleased he was every time she called him husband. “I won’t let you down.”

“You never do, By,” Claude responded in a rushed breath.

Byleth sucked in a sharp breath, hiding her own flustered reaction by taking the tip of Claude’s cock into her mouth again. Claude gasped, thrusting his hips forward, shoving more of himself into her mouth. Byleth moaned around him, a strangled  _ ‘I love you,’ _ falling from his lips in Almyran a moment before warmth flooded her mouth.

Claude groaned once more as he extracted himself from the warmth of her mouth and flopped down onto the bed, curling up against her side. Byleth licked her lips, swallowing the salt taste of him that Claude had left her with. 

“All right, I do have one question,” Byleth said a few minutes later, once she knew Claude would be coherent enough to pay attention. “If my breasts are Fódlan and Almyra, what does that make your cock?”

Claude threw his head back and laughed, arms wrapping around her waist as he pulled her close. “Byleth, you’re going to have to ask me that when you haven’t just sucked me off. I can barely think straight at the moment.”

Byleth pouted, but it was quickly turned into a gasp as he swung her up, strong hands guiding her to straddle his face. “Fuck!” she cursed as his lips pressed against her core. She could easily picture that all too pleased smile he was pressing against her. 

Claude turned his head, kissing the inside of her thigh. “My clever Queen,” he praised. “I can’t leave you without a reward for your service.” He followed his praise with a bite to the skin he had just kissed, Byleth squeaking loudly. “Come here.”

He pulled her back down onto his mouth, his tongue lashing against her clit. Byleth moaned, reaching up to grab her breasts, kneading them as Claude’s tongue worked her relentlessly. She gasped as his tongue entered her, grinding against his mouth as she silently begged for more. 

Callused fingers dug into her thighs, making Byleth squirm against him. “Claude,” she whined, his name falling from her lips in a litany. “Claude, Claude! Khalid!” Those fingers tightened their hold, his lips wrapping around her clit in response. Byleth could feel herself already drawing close to the edge, worked up from his previous teasing. “Khalid, please!”

His mouth moved back to her core, tongue licking a broad stroke along her pussy before delving back inside her. One hand moved to her hip, steading her as she rocked above him, the other going to her clit. His fingers pinched the sensitive nub, playing with her a moment before he laid his hand against her stomach, thumb continuing to tease her. 

Byleth’s back arched and her head tilted toward the ceiling. She sat frozen above her husband, gasping for breath. Claude continuing to kiss the inside of her thighs was not helping. 

Her whole body shaking, Byleth somehow managed to lift her leg over Claude’s head and flop onto the mattress beside him rather than on top of him. Claude turned her over, positioning Byleth’s head against his shoulder, his fingers touching all over, exploring for any injuries. It was a habit now, even when their sessions were less intense.

As his hands gently glided up and down her side, Byleth stared back down her body, picturing the map Claude had made of it. “You know,” she said lightly, tracing the outline of Almyra over her left breasts, “Almyra rests over my heart.”

Claude, who had cracked open one eye to peer down at her, flushed a deep red. He muttered something Byleth could not catch in Almyran, curling up around her as he buried his face against her neck. “By, you can’t go being all adorable when I’m trying to fall asleep. My heart can’t handle it.”

“Hmm,” Byleth hummed. She pushed him back, crawling over him until she could rest her cheek over his heart. “Yes, it does seem to be beating faster than usual. I caused that?”

Claude snorted, wrapping his arms around her and throwing the blanket over them both. “It’s usually what you do to my heart, my guiding star.”

“That does not seem healthy.” Byleth lifted her head, concerned for her husband’s sake.

“It’s fine, By,” Claude reassured her, kissing the top of her head. “It just reflects how much I love you.”

“Oh,” Byleth whispered, curling up against him. “Well I guess that’s fine then.”

/

“I’ve got it.”

Byleth’s brow furrowed at Claude’s whispered comment, trying to keep the majority of her attention on Lorenz. “You have what exactly?”

“My cock,” Claude answered.

Byleth slapped a hand over her mouth, trying to cover an ugly snort. She knew it only encouraged him. 

Sure enough, when she looked over there was a large grin plastered on Claude’s face. “It’s not a place,” Claude explained in a low voice. “It’s the key.”

“The key?” Byleth repeated, eyeing Lorenz’s displeased glare from the corner of her eye. 

“The key to the Locket.”

The lecture they received from Lorenz after the meeting was totally worth it. 


End file.
